


class of 93

by ravenlense



Series: derry high, 1993 [1]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Crying, Denial, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Underage Drinking, Vomiting, basically a study on richie and his internal dilemma about his crush on eds, bev is an intellectual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 06:56:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21334102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenlense/pseuds/ravenlense
Summary: Fuck them.Not just because it’s true, but because Richie curses them to eat shit. That’s what happens to shit-talkers, right?“Stupid...” he mutters, sniffling. “Stupid face, stupid fucking whining about everything... stupid comebacks...”Now, Richie’s smiling. He’s smiling as he continues to sob quietly, as tears continue to melt the dry skin of his cheeks. He thinks everything about Eddie Kaspbrak is stupid and he’s a huge fucking idiot.Richie loves Eddie Kaspbrak.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: derry high, 1993 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538164
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	class of 93

**Derry, Maine**

_EIGHT DAYS BEFORE GRADUATION._

“Bev wrote to me last week. She said she’s coming back to visit for graduation.”

“Wow, is this when you’re gonna drop everything again and forget we exist for a few days all because of her?”

Richie ducks in time to dodge the object that flies above his head. Bill’s glare is something, but he never had the drive like Eddie to constantly chuck an item every time he opened his mouth. In fact, no one had the balls like Edward Kaspbrak and if not for his “Eds,” Beverly would be telling him to shut up. Richie misses Bev sometimes, though, because she knew.

He remembers their call from last year when she called his home phone. It was the first time she called anyone since leaving Derry and Richie didn’t know why, but he cried. He hadn’t felt vulnerable for so long that Bev happened to contact him during the right time. He cried about the guilt-ridden secret that damned clown taunted him about for every second he showed himself.

Beverly Marsh knows of his undying love for one Eddie Kaspbrak. It’s not like Richie wanted a love doctor but he guessed he wound up lucky with his choice of friends.

“Why the long face, Trashmouth? You still with us?” Eddie laughs carelessly as he punches Richie’s shoulder. Finally, he’s not carrying that shitty hip sack anymore because he stopped listening to his mom. (None of them blamed him, knowing the woman was a nightmare.)

Richie shoves the boy to the side, going to the farther end of the clubhouse to refill his cup of lemonade. He grimaces at the tiny bird Stan has in a cage, more than the shower cap he has on. It’s been years and Richie can guarantee no spiders had fallen into his hair. But he cuts him slack because in retrospect, he cares and he’s never met anyone like him who stood up without a damn.

(He’s sure though that Bev would be excited to see all the birds Stan has cared for.)

“Trashmouth, you’re wasting the fucking lemonade!”

And by the time he’s spilled half of the jug on the table and his hand, Richie wishes Bev could get to Derry quicker. Only because he can’t stand the grin that creeps on Stan’s face when Eddie rips off a number of paper towels as he wipes down his hand. Richie wants to punch Stan, but right now, he has to control the deep red coating his cheeks.

_SIX DAYS BEFORE GRADUATION._

Bev shows up at Bill’s doorstep on Sunday around seven. Richie’s second to clobber the girl in a hug as the others followed suit. The adrenaline they all had already came from the realization they’d be graduating in a few days. No more early mornings, no more shortcuts to avoid their tormenters, and definitely no more dumping low quality lunches in the garbage when the lunch-ladies weren’t looking.

The boys at Derry High could reminisce in this very well. Mike and Bev settled for homeschooling, an easier option on both of their ends. Except, these differences didn’t hold any of them back from less of a celebration. They were finally going to move on. They were finally going to be able to take control of their lives in a way that didn’t require consistent monitoring. They didn’t have to be controlled anymore.

Speaking of control, to their dismay, it was a twist when Mike smuggled in a box of bottled “spiked” lemonade. Eddie shamelessly admitted being an accomplice in the scheme, something that made Richie find him more attractive. He knows he made that obvious because Bev is suddenly raising her brow at him and he feels his cheeks getting warmer (again).

It’s also Eddie who hands Richie an open bottle, so it doesn’t make his situation any better. He takes a swig, knowing he needs something to block out his thoughts. He needs to build a barrier again before he might say something he’ll regret. He doesn’t need that tonight.

Richie doesn’t want to ruin anything before they’re about to separate after graduation.

“Rich, take it easy—“

Mike’s voice goes over his head as he gags. He pulls back the bottle, surprised that half of it is gone. “Oh shit,” he laughs. “Well, you fuckers have some catching up to do.”

“Go to hell, Rich.” Bev flips him off. Eddie tugs his shoe off, somehow with much struggle. They all laugh at his misery, downing their own sips of the lemonade.

“Fuck you guys, seriously. You want us to catch up, Trashmouth? Fine, I’ll catch up.”

It amuses Richie that Eddie easily mirrors what he just did seconds ago. Except, Eddie gags and sputters out the drink, half-choking as their laughter fills the room. Mike pats his back as the latter holds up both his hands, flipping them off.

“I think I just lost my title of ‘Trashmouth’ to Mr. Kaspbrak here.” Richie teases, pressing his socked foot against Eddie’s cheek.

Ben muses, “Hey, play nice. He’s always sizing up to you because he wants to be better.”

“Okay, that is not true.”

“Remember when you threatened Richie about getting a, ‘Staph infection’?” Stan emphasized the last two words in a nasal tone. 

And oh, does Richie remember. Those years back, when it seemed like they were all on the brink of death at thirteen years old, Eddie managed to nag him on the most irrelevant concerns. He nagged them all, but Richie took it the most.

“It’s called staphylococcus! It’s a rash infection that can seriously—“

Richie butts in, voice high and nasally, “It’s called staphylcockus! We’re all gonna get serious rashes!”

Even with the pillow flung at his face, Richie’s heart flutters. He laughs along with the others because they’re all certainly amused, but he feels empty. He feels a sharp pain in his heart.

He takes another swig.

Richie stumbles into the bathroom upstairs at two in the morning. His chest pains course through his entire body as he vomits into the toilet. He feels his body tremble violently, not realizing how he’s actually sobbing. That’s why his throat hurts more than it should.

His migraine disappears in minutes but the heartbreak remains. Clutching the fabric of his shirt, Richie collapses against the wall, breathing heavily as he tries to calm down. He hates crying — hates it to the point where he only does it when he’s alone. He’s already heard every name in the book that he doesn’t want “pussy” or “crybaby” to be added to the list. Everyone already thinks he has a desire for sucking cock.

Fuck them. 

Not just because it’s true, but because Richie curses them to eat shit. That’s what happens to shit-talkers, right?

“Stupid...” he mutters, sniffling. “Stupid face, stupid fucking whining about everything... stupid comebacks...”

Now, Richie’s smiling. He’s smiling as he continues to sob quietly, as tears continue to melt the dry skin of his cheeks. He thinks everything about Eddie Kaspbrak is stupid and he’s a huge fucking idiot. 

Richie loves Eddie Kaspbrak.

Maybe, Richard Tozier is the true fool.

“Rich?”

The fact that Richie can make out Bev’s presence proves everything that was said about her at Derry High. She was so beautiful anyone could die for her (Ben, in particular), but instead people thought she was more beautiful stripped down and had her lips rimming around a dick or another girl’s mouth. Maybe that’s why they got along well.

Both of them were considered sluts.

The sniffle he lets out is enough for Bev to bend down to his level, cradling him in her arms. Richie buries his face into her shoulder, muffling his quiet sobs that now would have filled the bathroom in echoes. He can’t hear anything except himself and the gentle shushing from Bev. She rubs circles over his back, perching her chin on top of his curly-haired head.

“You’re gonna be okay, Rich.”

“I’m a dyke, Bev. I’m a fairy. A faggot.”

She chuckles, “‘Richie Tozier sucks flamer cock.’ That’s what was written on the stall I always smoked in. I didn’t believe it at first, but you look at Eddie like he just hung the moon.”

“Like how Bill looks at you?”

“I think that’s Ben.”

Richie pulls away, emitting a small chuckle, followed by sniffles. Beverly looks at him with endearment, gently pushing away the fringe beginning to barely cover his eyes.

“You need a haircut.”

“Shut up, I look badass. I’m a rockstar, aren’t I?”

It’s Beverly’s turn to laugh again. “Very much.”

They sit in silence for a while. Bev doesn’t pry as she allows Richie to pull himself together. She lets him wipe away tears and snot with his long sleeves, because if they make too much noise, it might wake the others. Instead of wiping his face with a soaked towel, Bev offers him a cigarette from the pack hidden in the pocket of her dress.

It’s all Richie can get for a while, but it’s the kind of comfort that genuinely helps.

_GRADUATION DAY._

Richie feigns throwing his cap in the air like everyone else. He’d be the first to throw it actually. But if he had to be honest, the things he and his friends did throughout the week, including last minute assignments, were completely draining. He surprised himself, when he realized he wasn’t happy this morning while getting ready.

Joining the diploma in his hand was the cap, which he handled with care. His parents had to leave immediately to get back to work, so they couldn’t stay for pictures. He promised them he would get home safe. Same old routine. And for Richie to think things would change after he graduated, was stupid. He really was a fool.

With his parents out of sight, Richie looks ahead to see Ms. Kaspbrak fiddling with Eddie’s cap. He’s trying to push her hands away as he complains with animated expressions. Richie smiles, because it’s typical. Eddie always resisted when someone tried to lay a finger on him.

Except Richie.

Eddie may have bitched at him, but in those moments when they were scared, getting terrorized by a demonic clown, he held onto Richie like he had nothing else. If he never moved his ass from the hammock in the clubhouse, Eddie would squeeze himself in the space alongside Richie or across from him.

He’s still looking at Eddie as he’s enamored in hugs and faint instances of “Congratulations” from Beverly and Mike. He doesn’t smile because of that. He smiles because of Eddie.

This is the only way he’ll ever get to love Eddie Kaspbrak.

He accepts it.


End file.
